


Senses working overtime

by Charlielinnea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, ADHD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, M/M, Married Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft is Sweet, Mycroft is a Softie, One Shot, POV Mycroft Holmes, Sad Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlielinnea/pseuds/Charlielinnea
Summary: Greg gets unexpected news from the doctor. Mycroft is there to support him.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 17
Kudos: 102





	Senses working overtime

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I don't like the idea of working on one story at a time, so here's another little one shot I wrote instead of finishing up something else. 
> 
> Song lyrics for titles, yes! It's mentioned in the story but Senses working overtime is song by British band XTC. 
> 
> Happy reading!

As soon as Mycroft's husband stepped through the front door, it was clear that something was bothering him. His grey coat had turned almost black from the rain, and his umbrella was nowhere to be seen - not that that was very unusual, Greg always misplaced it. But he had a deep frown on his face and his shoulders were slumping, so today's news at the doctor's office had obviously been difficult to hear.

Mycroft rose from the kitchen table and walked out to meet him in the hallway. Without waiting for Greg to remove his wet coat, he pulled him in for a deep, slow kiss. He cupped his husband's face in his hands and wiped away the wetness from his cheeks. Whether it was tears or rain, he didn't know. When they broke apart, Greg leaned on his shoulder and sighed. 

"I assume it did not end as you wanted today," Mycroft said, combing through the policeman's hair with his fingers, the rain making it look a lot more silver than grey. 

"Not really." 

"Let's sit down and you can tell me about it. Tea?" 

"Yes, please." Greg shrugged his coat off and went into the sitting room. 

After a minute, the music of one of Greg’s favourite bands, XTC, started playing and Mycroft gave a small smile. His husband had always liked to convey his feelings through music, and apparently this was no exception. Mycroft had known nothing about anything else than classical music when they had first met, but Greg had made sure to expand his knowledge on the subject of music in general and 80’s rock in particular. 

The politician busied himself with making the tea, and added a few biscuits on a plate too. They normally tried to stay off the sweets and treats during the week, but if it could cheer Greg up a little bit he saw no problem with breaking the rules just this once. 

As soon as Mycroft sat down on the sofa, Greg pulled his feet up and snuggled up to his husband. 

"Custard creams! Should never have told you that the way to my heart is through my stomach," Greg said while popping the whole biscuit in his mouth. 

"I suspect I would have found out eventually anyway, love. So tell me, what was Dr Fraser's conclusion?" The mood in the room changed instantly at the mention of the doctor. 

"I wish I never went for any of those stupid appointments. I wish Donovan would have kept her mouth shut about her bloody nephew with his bloody ADHD," Greg muttered while he ate another biscuit. "Because apparently your 46 year old husband is a nutcase with ADHD!" He sat his cup down so hard that half of the tea spilled on the table. 

"You are not a 'nutcase', Gregory." Mycroft said and reached out to hold his lover’s hand. "Several very successful people have ADHD and this doesn't change anything about you, unless you want it to." 

"I don't know what I want, Myc. The doctor had hundreds of suggestions about medication and therapy and bloody support groups, but I just told him that I needed to go home and think about this first.”

“A sensible decision.” 

They sat quiet for a bit.  _ I’ve got one, two, three, four, five senses working overtime  _ sounded through the speakers and Mycroft smiled at the rightness of the song. It was expected that Greg would feel distressed at the news, but Mycroft did not doubt that he would grow accustomed to it soon enough.

As always, Greg could not sit still for very long and soon got up from the sofa. He walked up to the window and stared out at the bleak February weather outside. 

“What do you think I should do?” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. 

“Frankly, Gregory, I think you should do nothing right now. Leave it for a while. Get used to it. Consider medication if you want, but don’t make any hasty decisions.”

“Yeah… I just never thought I’d be one of those people with  _ a diagnosis.”  _ He spat out the last word as if it had burned his tongue. 

“Gregory, my darling, do you remember what I told you the morning of our wedding almost ten years ago?” Mycroft said and rose from the sofa to join him at the window. 

“Mhm. That you couldn’t wait to get the ceremony over with so you could shag me senseless,” Greg snorted and leaned back into the touch of his husband now standing behind him. 

“Not that!” Mycroft said in mock-horror. “The other part, where I said that I will always love you, no matter how much you fret over being too loud or messy to fit in my life. You complete me, Gregory Vincent Holmes-Lestrade and I love every part of you. This changes nothing. I will cherish and support you if you decide to decline all of Dr Fraser’s suggestions on how to move forward, but I will cherish and support you just as much if you want to try out medication or therapy. Or both.” 

“Oh, love,” Greg said with a shaky breath and turned around in Mycroft’s arms to hug him. “Thank you.” 

Later that night, after saying their goodnights and turning off the bedside lamp, Mycroft had just started to fall asleep when an unusual sound startled him into awareness. He held his breath and listened, and there it was again. A muffled sob. 

“Gregoire, my dear” he mumbled and scooted closer to his husband, pulling him into a tight hug. “Talk to me.” 

His words did not have the effect he had hoped for, as Greg responded by sobbing desperately into his chest for several minutes. Mycroft waited patiently, stroking slow, firm circles on the other man’s back. Eventually, Greg took a few deep breaths and withdrew a little so he could look up at his husband. 

“Sorry Myc, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Nonsense, Gregory. You are much more important to me than sleep.”

“I just — I’ve been thinking a lot. And I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened to me if maybe I had found this out sooner, you know? My teenage years were a complete mess, my first marriage was a big failure and… And it makes me sad to know that maybe I’ve spent so many years needlessly struggling. I want to travel back in time and grab my 14-year-old self by the shoulders and tell him that  _ this is not your fault!”  _

“I understand,” Mycroft said, blinking away tears in his own eyes. He was pretty sure that he knew almost everything there was to know about his husband’s tumultuous childhood and adolescence, and his heart ached with the fact that maybe Greg’s life would have been a bit easier if he had gotten his diagnosis earlier. 

“I know it’s silly, because I can’t bloody do anything about it now, but still… I put so much effort into turning my life around and if I had known then what I know now, I wouldn't have been so hard on myself.”

“It’s alright, Gregory,” Mycroft soothed as his husband burst into tears once again. “I understand completely.” He whispered sweet nothings in Greg’s ear until he calmed down. 

“Nothing to do about it now… Still sad about it, though”, Greg said and shrugged as best as he could, enfolded in Mycroft’s arm as he was. 

“And that’s fine. This will take time to process, and reactions like this are completely expected and normal,” Mycroft said, inwardly cringing over how he sounded more like a psychologist than someone trying to comfort his husband. Greg did not seem to mind though. 

“Yeah, I know love, just need some time to get used to the thought. It helps, knowing that you’re around to help me out.”

“Always, Gregory. Anything you need.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you. All of you.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So yesterday I, almost 30 years old, was diagnosed with ADHD which was a relief, a shock and like finding the last piece of a puzzle, all at once. And how do we cope with feelings and thoughts?? We turn them into fan fiction, obviously! ¯\\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯


End file.
